


Family Matters

by Traillbits



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Backstory, Childhood Trauma, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23211376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traillbits/pseuds/Traillbits
Summary: Peter Vincent witnessed his parents murder at the hands of a vampire when he was only a kid. For years no one believed him and it was a cold case. But if Peter hadn't left for America and dug deeper into the case, he would have seen just why it was a cold case. Years later after he and Charley kill the vampire responsible, will Peter be reunited with more than just the truth?
Kudos: 5





	1. Everything Will Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

> So I realize I'm very late in seeing this film, and was pleasantly surprised at what I got! And of course David Tennant's Peter Vincent was the highlight of the movie for me. So late into this fandom or not I couldn't resist :) 
> 
> So since the film is set in 2011 modern era I'm just going to stick with the same 2011 timeline. Also as Peter's age is not-as far as I can see-listed exactly in the film, here he's in his late twenties when the whole Jerry the Vampire hunt goes down.

~1991~

~Twenty Years Ago~

Daddy told them to hide. He always thought of his dad as the bravest man ever, but now he looked so scared. Something Peter had never seen come over his father's face before. 

"What do they want?!" His mom asked, grasping Peter's arm tight. 

"I don't know, but you and Peter have to stay safe!" Now his daddy had a giant gun in his hands. The special gun his dad kept under lock and key that Peter was forbidden to ever go near. "I'll keep them away as long as I can. There's no other way, just keep our boy safe! Go!"

His mommy was crying, why was she crying? And why was daddy so scared? 

"Please sweetheart, we can hide together, all three of us we can run, something! Just please don't!" She pleaded. 

All the while something, someone was pounding against the front door. Something strong, the dead bolts were bending as though they were made of tin foil. Wood was splintering and caving in on itself. 

"There's no time, just go now!" His dad shouted, and Peter felt his mother practically drag him down the hall. Peter couldn't see his dad anymore, he was scared too.

They'd run to his parents room, frantically his mom shut the door, dragging the dresser out to block the entryway. 

"M-Mommy?" Peter asked with a sniffle, "Is daddy coming back?"

His mom smiled at him, but even the little boy could see the terror in her eyes.

"Of course sweetheart, daddy is going to be fine. We're going to be okay."

Gunshots rang out in the hall, Peter could hear his mother choke back a sob. One gunshot, then another. Another, and then... quiet before a thud was heard. 

Footsteps slowly made their way down the hall. 

His mother knelt down to her child's level, her arms protectively cradling him to her. 

"Mommy?" Peter whimpered, he could hear her crying. 

The footsteps paused and then continued. Paused and then kept going. They were being hunted, and the hunter had just passed Peter's vacant bedroom. Only a few more steps and they'd reach the parents room. 

Holding his face in her hands, his mom stared at him with tear stricken. 

"Okay. Peter, sweetheart we need to play hide and seek. You need to hide, can you do that for me? And you can't come out, you need to hide really good."

"O-Okay." Peter was really scared, he knew this wasn't like when they'd played hide and seek before. His mom never cried when they played games. 

She shook her head, planting a kiss on his forehead, "Baby I love you, I love you so much. Please Petey, stay safe and be brave for mommy. Now go."

Peter looked around for a perfect hiding spot, he was always so good at hide and seek. But he never felt so scared when it was time to play. Hearing the footsteps come closer, he opened up the door to the closet. 

His mother shut the door behind him, shoving the closet blinds down, Peter could barely see anything through the cracks. Only the faintest slivers of light from the lamp peaked in. Peter could just barely make out his mother glancing back at him.

Tears ran down her face hearing a slam against the bedroom door. 

"I love you," She mouthed to her boy before backing away. She reached into a drawer for anything, pulling out a pair of scissors. 

The door within a minute broke apart, the dresser toppled over easily. Peter put a hand over his mouth, mommy said to hide good. He had to hide good, he promised. Everything was going to be okay.

It was only one man, or at least he thought it was a man. He stalked toward where Peter's mother stood helplessly clenching the scissors. 

"Please stop this! Why are you doing this?!" She sobbed. "If you want money just take whatever you want! Please just leave us alone. Please..."

The intruder chuckled, "But you have exactly what I want."

The scissor were tossed out of her hand and she shrieked being pulled toward the man. 

Peter's eyes locked with his mother's one last time. The same eyes he had, that normally looked so bright and happy. But those brown eyes were filled with fear as the man's mouth became large and jagged, filled with rows of horrifying teeth. 

Hot tears ran down Peter's face, still holding back his cries when the monster man shoved his teeth into her neck. Her body convulsed and twitched as she grew more and more pale. Blood began dripping down his mother's neck, puddling on the ground. 

Peter was petrified, his eyes shut tight clutching his knees to his chest. 

It was only when he heard another familiar thud that Peter opened his eyes. The monster man just stood there glancing down at the floor. He made to leave, but paused taking a few steps toward the closet. 

He made no move to open the closet or come any closer, but Peter was sure the monster man was staring right at him. Did the monster know where the boy was? Was he next? What did the monster want? Why did the monster do this?

A smile crept up on those blood smeared lips, as though he were considering just what to do next. But with the lazy wipe of his mouth with the back of his claw like hand, he lost interest and left the way he'd barged in. 

It might have been a few minutes, or a couple of hours by the time police sirens were heard outside the house. Shortly after entry, a policeman opened the closet door when he heard a tiny cry inside. It revealed a weeping little boy huddled in on himself.

"Hey kid, come on out it's okay." The cop reached out his hand, but Peter scooted away, pressing himself into a pile of old clothes. 

"The monster man is going to find me." He whimpered shaking his head. "He found mommy and he's going to find me." 

"No no, there's no monster man here. We're here to help, the bad people won't hurt you now. Just take my hand kid, it's gonna be alright."

The boy seemed to quietly consider this before slowly crawling out. His eyes welled up seeing a large red smear on the floor beside the bed. 

"Shh kid, don't look at it. Let's get you out of here. Can you tell me your name?"

He rubbed at the tears staining his cheeks, "Why did the monster do it?"

The officer shook his head, "There are no monsters, I know how hard this is but we'll find the guy that did this, kid."


	2. You have Your Mother's eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, lots of catching up/exposition in the first bit but it's about to get feelsy! A kudos or comment is always welcome :)

If asked, Peter Vincent could list a number of reasons why he had volunteered himself into taking up a wooden stake. Not one of them he could say for certain was the official first spark to ignite the fuse. 

Perhaps he began hunting after Jerry's demise because of the adrenaline rush it gave him. Being surrounded by the undead, the thrill he had opening fire on the monstrous rogues-at least until the gun shorted out. 

Maybe after seeing all of the vampire's victims that had been nesting under the house, reduced to rabid animals he'd do anything to prevent it happening to anyone else. The survivors were scared and confused with no memory of how they'd gotten there when they'd been released.

Or the endless nightmares Peter was plagued with could have been a just as plausible answer. Despite slaying Jerry, the dreams seemed to only worsen, or in the very least did anything but improve. Even three months on and they hadn't changed, always the same scene playing out in his night terrors. Again he was always that little boy, crying in the closet hearing nothing but screams and seeing only blood stained teeth. 

At least now he wasn't alone anymore, not like before that is. 

True he did have Ginger back, after releasing those turned by Jerry and his kin, she woke up as if she'd suffered a raging hangover rather than a vampiric possession over her mind and body. But their marriage was and had always been a loveless one. The sex was great yes, arguing of course was shit, but never any heartfelt affection. She had wanted wealth, and Peter needed a gorgeous Mrs for publicity.  
But after the night in the nest, Ginger had hopped on a private plane to soak up some much needed sun and mimosas. She would continue with the shows, but likely they'd split once she came back. It was probably best for both of them, for once something he and Ginger both agreed on. 

And then there was Charley. Peter remembered how bat shit crazy he thought the kid was when he ambushed him with questions about vampires during a dress rehearsal. Sure Peter wasn't an old man by any means, but Charley was much younger than the illusionist. And maybe that's why Peter stuck around, reminded him of when he was Charley's age. Maybe his conscience crept up on him and didn't want the kid going through what he had after Jerry had snatched Amy. 

It made Peter feel as though he had something akin to a family. Charley's mother was quite adamant on meeting the illusionist by day slayer by night when her son caught her up to speed-and she had to convince herself for the third time that it wasn't all a dream. And it seemed rude to her not to say thank you to the man who helped save her son's life and that offered a pretty generous fund to the mother and son finding a new house. 

Peter was refusing to take Charley on any late night hunts at first, wasn't gonna let a kid with a good life ahead of him muck it all up. But when he tailed the vampire hunter during a stake out-pardon the pun-down in Henderson, Charley surprised the slayer by getting the jump on the head bloodsucker first. He was a good kid, reckless little shit at times but maybe that's why Peter kept him around.

But tonight there were no stake outs for the slayer. Instead Peter was half naked, cocooned in tangled up sheets fighting off both a hangover and horrible jet lag after a show he'd been shanghaied into performing in the big apple the night before. His agent said it was good publicity for his act and that if New York was successful-which it was after a weeks stay-then it would open doors and his wallet to more shows and opportunity. 

He'd landed back in Vegas only an hour ago and was already comatose with fatigue in his lavish flat. 

So deep in sleep he almost didn't react to the gentle stroke of fingers through his hair, a gentle graze pushing the strands out of his closed eyes. Almost didn't react. 

Despite how soothing it felt against his scalp, Peter was fast in whipping out the dagger he'd come accustom to sleeping with under a pillow. 

Since Ed and Jerry had broken into his apartment, Peter had been better prepared for attack, some nights exhausted himself until the wee hours of dawn training. 

Violently he slashed through the air as he sat up. He sucked in a heavy breath through his nose, eyes darting around, gritting his teeth.

No one was there. Wasn't the first time he'd been paranoid.

"Ginger?" He called however unlikely. She wasn't due back for another week and a half, no way would she come home early, certainly not for him. 

Safe for now but still on edge with panic, Peter threw the sheets off and put on his evening robe. 

"Charley? Amy?" He asked.

Still, the slayer found himself to be completely alone. 

Peter groaned, he was truly burned out tonight. His body ached, and clearly he wasn't sleeping well again. Plucking his phone off the counter, the device read the time '5:18 AM' 

He grimaced at the hour it was, his feet made a soft pitter patter against the floor as he sauntered over to the bar. Reaching over the counter, Peter poured a glass, letting his head tilt back and the alcohol slide down his throat. He continued this three more times before taking the remaining bottle of Midori to his room. Still a few more hours until he had to be awake for another rehearsal. 

\--

"Mom was asking if you'd want to come over Saturday." Charley mentioned, hoisting his bag over a shoulder as the elevator took them up. 

"Wasn't I just over on Wednesday?" Peter asked, though that wasn't a no to the invitation. 

"She likes having you around I guess."

Peter smirked, "Dreamily writing my name in a notebook while she made these plans?"

Charley grimaced but laughed giving his shoulder a friendly shove. "Ugh! Don't count on it dude!"

"She must think I starve myself with how much food she shoves on me."

The teen gave him a concerned look, "Seriously though, when was the last time you ate?"

"Not you too Charley," Peter groaned.

"I'm just asking man,"

Peter waived it off, "Fine fine. Just tell me when to be there. Should be free after my last show of the night."

The elevator gave a dull ding as the doors opened. Passing a few of the display cases, Peter opened one that was vacant. He and Charley restocked it with the tools of the vampire killing trade they'd taken out that day. 

"Stay for a drink?" Peter asked, "Afraid I'm all out of Shirley Temple though."

Charley smirked, "Funny. Nah, I promised Amy we'd hang out tonight." 

The illusionist mirrored him with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, "Now when you say you two hanging out..."

"It's not always about sex."

"Hah! But some of the time it is then!"

Charley shook his head in disbelief, closing the now restocked case. 

Peter shrugged, already sauntering into the apartment. "Suit yourself kid, you know the way down!"

Charley took his leave as the illusionist was already in the process of pouring himself a glass of Midori at the bar.

He took a seat in the armchair, letting his joints relax against the leather. He stared out the window, fiddling around with the glass in his hand. Sin City really was a city that never sleeps, at dusk it was already filled with lights and brimming with activity. 

Peter window gazed, feeling himself nodding off in minutes. 

He jerked awake though hearing his phone ring. 

"Fucking Hell," Peter mumbled, hitting answer. "Hello!"

"Mr. Vincent? You have a visitor waiting to be admitted." Security answered.

"Who is it?" Peter's face scrunched up in confusion.

"A woman, says she'll only speak to you."

His brows raised in confusion, he never had visitors this late, save for Charley that is. Sitting up he walked down to the panic room. Staring up at the computer monitors he stared down at the downstairs feed. He could see the security man at the desk, but no one else. 

"She still downstairs?" He asked slowly.

"Yes sir, looking at her right now. Said she needs to talk to you."

No reflection in the cameras. Shit.

"Right, send her up." Peter shut the end call button before the man could respond. The slayer chugged back the last of his drink, making a beeline back down to his displays. Pulling one of the glass door open he grabbed the shotgun, loading it up. Silver was werewolves, but blessed silver would work on vampires just as well. 

Backing up, Peter had the gun trained on the elevator, just waiting for it to open. 

"C'mon, come and get me." He mumbled, "Ready for you bastards this time."

He waited for three minutes but it felt like three hours before that familiar ding sounded off. 

But his brave resolve faltered. The woman that stepped out of the elevator showed no concern or fear having a gun pointed at her head. 

Though it was her familiarity that froze Peter in place. Same hair, same eyes, same face. A face he hadn't seen in twenty years.

"Peter..." Her eyes welled up, "It really is you."

The slayer gritted his teeth, his eyes had to be playing a trick. "No no, this isn't fucking real! It can't! You- You're not-!"

She nodded, "Petey, it is me."

The shotgun was becoming heavy and unsteady in his hands. Maybe because he was currently aiming a loaded gun at a woman he thought to be dead. Technically this wasn't far from the truth. 

Peter could vaguely recall his mother calling out his name as he lowered the gun making a break for the panic room as fast as his legs could carry him.


	3. Blood is Thicker than Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heart to heart and catch up time with mother and son 

Peter was holding his knees to his chest, his shoulders hunched and breathing heavily. 

This wasn't happening. This can't be happening.

His mom was dead, she had been killed twenty years ago by Jerry. He knew what he saw. Was this a joke? Some sick deception to play at his psyche? For all he knew this was all a hallucination and he'd finally gone bonkers!

But now. Probably still out there, she'd come back from the dead. Only, not entirely alive it seemed. Peter couldn't see anyone on the monitor screens showing his apartment. But he knew she was still out there. 

It didn't make any sense! Even if she'd been turned, why was she still changed? After Charley staked Jerry, everyone that'd been bitten had become human again. 

And just why had she shown up now? She was a vampire-Peter grimaced-probably here to kill him after getting wind of his past slayings. 

The biggest question caused a massive lump in his throat to form:

Could he trust her?

Peter crawled away when he heard a tap against the door.

"Please," She called. "I'm not going to hurt you or anyone. Baby, I swear it."

The slayer shook his head, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. 

"I don't know!" Peter shouted. "Just go! Leave me alone!"

"Petey, please. Just one talk with you, I just want that. If you don't want to hear anymore after that I'll go. You'll... You never have to see me again." His mother pleaded.

Peter dug his hands into his scalp, pulling violently at his hair. A choked up sob forming in his throat. He didn't know if he could trust her and he hated himself for it. But he also knew he couldn't shoot his own mom. Even if she were trying to lure out and slaughter him, he just couldn't go that far.

Even still, it's not like he could stay in the panic room forever. There was water-though unfortunately all the alcohol was outside-but not much. Peter couldn't exactly camp out in here indefinitely, or run risk of someone coming up to check on him. 

He stood, picking the shotgun up from where he dropped it at his feet. His hands quaked and shook as he shoved his palm down on the red button. 

The door slid open, slowly Peter crept out. He noticed her sitting beside the fireplace.

Miranda Vincent looked just the same as she had before. Her hair dirty blond and tousled with short curls, her eyes a dark chocolate brown. To anyone else she looked perfectly normal. Dressed in black capris, a faded green blouse, and a worn denim jacket. 

"Are you going to shoot me?" She asked, with a sad expression. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

Peter shook his head. "I can't. Fuck, I don't know if I'll regret it but I can't."

He propped the gun against the back of one of the armchairs. Slowly he walked around to where she sat. Miranda stood when they were only an arm's reach apart. 

"Mom?" He asked, still not believing that this was any more than a dream.

She smiled, her eyes watering with a nod. 

"It's me baby. I'm here. Peter, I'm so sorry. I wasn't there for you." She whimpered. 

Her words caused any walls Peter had put up to crumble, as the slayer felt the tears, his legs weakening. 

Miranda held her arms out, "Can I?"

Peter meekly nodded. She pulled him into her arms before he could collapse in on himself, her hands rubbing along his shirt clad back. 

Pulling back, she let her hands run down Peter's face. He was in need of a shave. 

"My boy," Miranda smiled. "All handsome and grown up. I missed so much of your life, but you pulled through it. You're so brave sweetheart, I just wish I had come sooner."

Peter's hands reached up to feel hers. Colder than his, but still the motherly touch he remembered. Those hands had embraced him whenever he had a nightmare late in the night. The time Peter had skinned his knee riding his bike, those hands had been there to patch him up. 

"This is..." Peter shook his head. "I need a drink."

\--

He drank straight from the bottle, trying to process all of this.

"This entire time you've been in New York?" He asked.

Miranda shook her head, "Not the entire time, but the last four years I have been. I've only stayed in one place for a few years before moving on somewhere else."

"Have you..." Peter paused to take another swig. "Have you killed anybody?"

She bit her bottom lip. "Not in a very long time. They made me do it when I was... When I first became this. But after I got away from them, I found another way. When I go to a new place, they always need people in hospitals."

"You didn't-"

"No! No not on any people. But there are blood banks. Taking little by little no one notices if some goes missing. But it hasn't been easy."

"And why'd you come find me now?" Peter asked, his eyes studying her face. 

Miranda shook her head, "As soon as everything happened, I wanted to come back and find you. I just didn't know where to start. I escaped a few years after I was changed, but you weren't in London anymore. I searched for you...But you were just gone. I left after that, if you were still out in the world, maybe I could find you here in America."

He nodded, when Peter had officially been labelled an orphan the system stuck him with a cousin whose name he couldn't recall. Said nameless cousin was only in London because they'd been visiting in-laws in Oxford, he was going to head back to San Francisco in a matter of days when he'd gotten the call regarding the Vincents' murder. 

"You said you were in New York."

His mother nodded, "And that's how I found you. Your name was flashing on one of the billboards in Times Square."

Peter blinked, swishing around the remainder of the bottle. "Did you see me?"

"I didn't," Miranda said, "I wanted to, I found out where this show you do was. But I guess I was terrified. Terrified how you'd react seeing me."

"Then why come now?!" Peter stood, chucking the now empty bottle on the floor. It rolled obnoxiously, bumping into the table. "What's so different now?"

"Because I didn't want to lose you again!" She responded, "I heard you lived in Vegas, do your shows here. For Christ sake Peter! I haven't seen my son in twenty years after becoming this... thing! Don't I deserve to see my own child?! Even just to hear your voice, see your face."

Peter nodded, glumly looking up at her. "I missed you too."

She tilted her head, "I see so much of your father in you Peter. Like I can pretend that awful night never happened."

His eyes lit up. "Dad... What about him, is he alive? Well, this kind of alive?"

The smile teasing at Miranda's lips shrank. She bowed her head, slumping further into the chair. "No. No the other one didn't even give him a chance. Slashed out his throat, he died protecting us Peter, he loved you enough to die for you. I'm so sorry."

The slayer felt a lump form in his throat. "Hold on a fucking minute. What 'other one?'"

His mother looked up to lock eyes with her son's. "You don't know..."

"Mom, there was only one vampire in the house that night, right? I saw the bastard with my own eyes. He's dead! I know he is!"

She shook her head, "He isn't-"

"Bullshit! I-! We killed him! I saw that bloodsucker blow up like a messy balloon!"

Her eyes widened, "That was you?"

Peter shrugged, "I... Well I had some help. Jerry moved into this little neighborhood, starting snacking on the locals. This kid knew I had alot of stuff and know how on vampires and asked for help. Almost didn't make it out."

"Jerry... Jeremiah?" She asked.

"Sounds better than 'Jerry the Vampire' but yeah."

"Peter," Her voice sounded so small in what she said next. "You killed the brother."

Peter shook his head. "Don't say it. Please don't say it." 

"Jeremiah didn't turn me, that was Julius."


End file.
